The Guardian Angel
by jackfrostnips
Summary: Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia: Vanessa survived it the first time, but when the cancer comes back, there may be other plans for her in store. And with her new ally, Jack Frost, she learns to accept her fate. Except there is one problem; her new ally is turning into much more than just an ally, and that was definitely not in the original plan... Jack/OC. Review if the mood strikes!
1. Prologue and Chapter 1

_**AN: Jack Frost/OC is the pairing.**_

With a upsetting slam, the door came to a close behind me as I stalked up the stairs and into my bedroom. The bags I had on my arms and back were thrown onto the floor just in time for me to hear my mother's voice call up to me.

"Vanessa?"

I didn't reply, but I let the breath I'd been holding since I got out of the meeting with my counselor after school slip through my gritted teeth. My mother's steps were padding up the stairs, and, a moment later, she appeared in the doorway, her eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"What happened?"

I could already feel the tears well up in my eyes, and the shame that came with them. My mom had prepared me for this possibility, but it still seemed so _unfair._ After everything I had been through in the past year, after all the treatments, the unnecessary flowers and Get Well Soon balloons, after all that, I was being forced to repeat my eighth grade year. Of course, it made sense. I'd barely attended a day of school since I was diagnosed. But still, why couldn't they award me this small victory? Without a word, I sat down on my bed.

"Look, Nes," began my mom, sitting next to me. She could already tell. "I told you this could happen. Try not to get so worked up about it. Look at it this way; the cancer is in remission, and you get a second chance at learning. I know all your friends will be moving on…"

I tuned her out as I wiped the tear that slipped past my lashes away. As I did so, my head turned towards my window, through which the bright day could be seen. After a second of scrutiny, I could just make out little flecks of what looked to be…

"Snow?" I whispered. My mom stopped and followed my gaze.

"Well, would you look at that. It's nearly April and now it decides to snow." She chuckled, adding, under her breath, "It's a little late there, Jack Frost."

I paid no mind to her as I jumped up and rushed down the stairs and out the door. I loved the snow, but I had to miss it this year because of the cancer. But now I could run outside if I pleased, fall into whatever mounds collected, and make snow angels. I spent the next hour walking in it, catching flakes as they fell. It stuck well, packing up a good amount of inches in that hour. As the sun started to set, I started home. No doubt my mother would be growing worried. I sighed as the gold glow the setting sun cast shined on the snow.

"Do you like snow?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the voice sounded, seemingly right next to my ear. I turned around quicker than I thought possible to see a boy who looked to be four or five years older than me standing a few yards behind me. He looked as pale as the snow around him, with hair that was just as white and eyes like frozen water. I blinked at him until I remembered his question and managed a solid, "Yes."

He smiled at me, showing off pearly whites as well, and said, "So do I." He looked around as if he were proud and then added, "Think fast!" Suddenly, a solid ball of snow was flying toward me. I ducked and it flew over my head, landing somewhere behind me with a thud. I laughed brightly, preparing to pack my own ball, but when I looked up, he was gone. The smile faltered on my mouth, and I dropped the ball at my feet, confused. After another moment, I turned and continued home.

* * *

Four years later, in the fall of my junior year, I thought I saw that boy again. But it was just a trick of the light. Ever since then, the snow hadn't faltered like it had that year. Each year it seemed to get progressively colder and quicker. There was already a foot of snow, and it was barely November. Maybe that was normal in some places, but it hadn't happened often here. In fact, a plethora of weird things started up, especially when I was around.

It had been about a week since that supposed sighting, and I'd been obsessing over it. Had it been him? It couldn't have been. He didn't look like he'd aged a day, much less four years. I spent a good amount of time racking my mind and trying to convince myself that he was just a hallucination in the first place.

I slipped out of my reverie in time to see a flash of something bright on my window. A closer look at my window revealed that the bright thing was frost, and it was swirling up my window in a delicate pattern, until it came to a stop. The picture it made was symmetrical and beautiful, but it didn't make sense; how could frost make itself wind in that pattern? The frost burned on my window and I waited for something to happen—anything. I found myself approaching the window apprehensively until I was so close that my breath was causing a fog to appear on it. The night was dark outside of my window, but I still got the feeling that someone was watching me, and a chill ran down my back. I placed my palm flat on the window and leaned forward to look out of it at an angle. Almost immediately, I felt an ice cold sensation, causing my hand to jerk abruptly back. My eyes flicked downwards at where my hand had been; in its place was a hand print of frost. My shock was audible as I gasped, looking outside again, bewildered. This was the second floor; there was no possibility someone I couldn't see was making hand prints of frost on my window.

After a second of deliberation, I wrenched the window open and leaned out of it. A gust of cold wind rushed in and I shivered, but I didn't close my window, nor did I back up. I just swiveled my eyes around. There was nothing there.

A myriad of events like this have already occurred, but there was never any explanation. I closed my window and walked towards my bed, where I promptly collapsed onto it with a huff. At first, I thought that I was losing my mind, although I couldn't imagine why; ever since the cancer went into remission, it has been smooth sailing, unless I was getting some sort of psychiatric disorder. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, wishing I could explain these little events, or at least stop them.

The lamp on my bedside table lit the bed but not all of the room, and it caused the shadows to dance on the wall mischievously. I peered at them absently, until… was that the silhouette of a person? I sat up quickly and turned over my shoulder. The window had been opened—silently?—but there was no one there. I stood slowly and approached it again. As my view crested the sill, and I could see into my yard, a flush of cold wind hit my face. It slowed to a cool breeze, and that's when I saw him: the boy from all those years ago.

He looked exactly the same. His hair was still almost grotesquely white to the point of gleaming in the moon light. He looked up at me with an unreadable expression, his eyes focused on mine with a sort of burning intensity I'd never felt before. His eyes, I couldn't help but to think, were stunning. They were the sort of blue that could burn like fire, but still be cold as ice, and they had that same icy grip on my own. A moment passed, and the boy broke out in a triumphant laugh.

"I did it! I did it!" His lips, pale from the cold outside, spread into a grin and he seemed like he was about to burst out of his skin. A second later, he caught himself and stilled all at once, clearing his throat and raising his eyes back to me. "Hi."

I was too shocked to answer at first. Here was the kid I'd seen once in my life, years ago, who looked exactly the same as he did then, who had completely disappeared the first time, and was now in front of my window greeting me. I'd spent so much time wondering about him; he was a topic my brain liked to obsess over, ever since that day. And here he was.

His smile faltered as I didn't answer, and he said, deflated, "Can't you see me?"

I finally answered, "Of course I can."

His face lit up again and he added, "Do you remember me?"

I nodded slowly. His bright teeth still shined on.

"Great, that's great. Wow, you don't know how happy I am. I've been trying to get you to notice me for years!"

I blinked and asked, in a small voice, "Why?"

He stopped just long enough to see the confusion on my face as I peered down at him.

"Don't you… know who I am?"

"No."

The boy's (oddly perfectly manicured) eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes dropped to the snow on the ground in front of him. "What do you mean? I'm.. I'm Jack!"

"Jack? Jack, what?"

He bit his lip, returning his eyes to me. "Jack… Jack."

Now it was my turn to furrow my brows. "Your name is… Jack Jack? Like the kid from The Incredibles?"

The boy shook his head, "No, what is that? No, my first name is Jack…"

"And your last name…"

He seemed the have to think about it. Why would someone have to think about their last name unless they were making it up?

"Jack…Frasier."

"Uh-huh. Jack Frasier. So, why?"

Jack pulled his eyes away from me and said, "It's kind of weird talking to you like this. Will you come down?"

I watched him fidget and then looked towards my shut door, and then to the clock. It wasn't that late, only 9. I could go, if I wanted. But my mom wouldn't let me go out after 8 on a school night, so… I turned towards my closet, rummaged in my closet for a coat, hat, and scarf, then slipped them on. On my way out, I chanced a glance in my mirror. My hair was wavy, as it often was when I was too lazy to do anything with it. Its brunette coloring was so much different from Jack's white locks, along with my flushed cheeks and pink nose (from the cold, I told myself) and my brown eyes. I looked so plain compared to him. With a shake of my head, I went to the window and swung my leg over the edge before I could talk myself out of this.

I sat on the outside of my window, balancing precariously on the sill, and realized I hadn't thought this through, exactly. The tree branch I had hoped to latch onto wasn't as close as I had thought. Fear laced my veins, and I felt glued to spot I was in. "Um, Jack…"

Jack was still there, watching me carefully, his eyes moving between me and the tree. Before I could voice my fear, he interrupted me with, "Just jump."

I gaped at him. Was this boy crazy? Or, better yet, was I crazy for going out with him? He could be a serial killer for all I knew! However, that day all those years ago was still as fresh in my mind as ever, and everything about him was so disarming.

"Don't worry," he said, catching my eyes with his own. "It'll be fun. I promise."

Staring into my eyes like he was, I trusted him. So I jumped.

The fall seemed much slower than expected; in fact, it was almost like I floated down on the wind! Whatever the case was, I landed almost softly in a deep pile of snow, my fall dampened by the fluffy snow. I was disoriented at first, but I felt the coldness of a hand pull me up to my feet. I coughed a bit of snow out of my mouth to the sound of Jack's laughter. I looked up at him, yanking my hand out of his. "That wasn't funny," I mumbled childishly. He only grinned.

"Why was your hand so cold, anyway?" I found myself rubbing my hands together to create heat, and it was right then that I noticed that he was wearing jeans, a hoodie, and no shoes. I looked up at him, shocked. "What in the world are you doing out here with no shoes?"

He glanced down, and then at me nervously. "You get used to it. Don't worry about it." I watched him warily and then took off my scarf and hat. "Here, take these."

He looked at them dumbfounded, almost as if he didn't know what they were. In the end, he slipped the hat on and wrapped the scarf around his neck. Good thing I'd brought solid black accessories, I thought. He grumbled a half-hearted thanks to me, but I cut him off.

"Now, please tell me why you've been stalking me."

Jack snorted. "I wouldn't exactly call it stalking, per se. I was just keeping an eye on you."

"So, you admit it. You were stalking me."

"No," he said sharply. "Guarding you."

I raised my eyebrows and asked, "Who are you, anyway? I don't know any one named Jack Frasier. Do you even know me? Don't answer that. Why do you still look like you're 18?"

Jack sighed, running a hand through his pale hair. "Jeez, what is this, twenty questions?"

"I think I have a right to know, Jack Frasier, if that is your real name."

He gave me a sideways glance and then took a deep breath. "I'm… no one important. And… I'm just now 18. When you saw me then I was 14, like you were. Just abnormally tall." He ignored my disbelieving look. "And, for your information, I don't know who you are. Just that you're important. Would you mind telling me your name?"

I squinted at him and answered, "Vanessa."

He repeated it pensively. "Vanessa. Nice name."

"Why do you seem to think I am important?" I pried.

He took a moment to answer that. In the meantime, he began to walk down the sidewalk, me following closely.

"You were sick, right?" I nodded. "I could tell because you missed all that school." Did he go to school with me, I wondered. "And then… well… my dad mentioned something about you. And it kind of stuck in my brain."

"What?"

Jack turned to face me, and smiled. "That there was something about you that made you special. Like me."

I waited for more explanation, but he didn't offer one. I stopped walking. "So, wait. Are you sick, too?"  
Jack looked away and shrugged. "You might say that."

I waited again to see if he would tell me what with, but he didn't. I knew enough not to ask. We continued walking in silence, and soon my house came back into view. Huh, I thought. He was walking me in a circle.

Suddenly, a colorful light filled the sky. I stared up, shocked by the wide array of colors that danced in the sky. "Is that… the Northern Lights?"

Jack was looking up, too, and I took a moment to observe the way the colors reflected so beautifully on his nearly-translucent skin. He turned his eyes towards me, connecting with my own. It was like that for a beat, but then he said, "I have to go."

"Wait, why? I don't even know anything about you!" But he was already walking away, laughing. "Of course you do, Vanessa. You know my full name."

"You're name isn't Jack Frasier and we both know it!" My accusation was lost on him, however, as he was taking off at a light jog in the direction the lights were coming from. I waited for another minute, to see if he'd come back. Then, all at once, I was reminded that I was alone, outside of my house at nights. I looked around, then wondered aloud, "How the hell am I supposed to get back in?"


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't until the next morning that I realized Jack had run off with my hat and scarf. In fact, it was the only way I could be sure that it hadn't all been a dream, as my missing accessories were the only real proof.

When I arrived at school, I spent the whole day looking for him. I even asked a few people if they knew who Jack Frasier was. It was a pretty small town, and it should have been easy to find someone that knew him, but I must have been right about his name being an alias. No one could place a white-haired boy named Jack Frasier. This only fueled my interest in him, although it also tightened a small knot of worry in my stomach. Stalkers could be pretty serious, couldn't they? I knew that celebrities and famous people had to deal with them all the time, but me? I was just an average girl in a small off-the-map town. And I couldn't get how safe Jack had seemed. Everything about him projected a sense of security, like he was truly watching over me, but there was no way to explain his "guarding" me. What did an 18 year old kid know about guarding someone? These questions ran circles through my head as I tried to tell myself to stop worrying so much.

There was still a part of me that was drawn to him, as well. I'd felt it ever since that first meeting. Of course, then I thought that he was just another good-looking guy that was too old for me, and, besides, I was barely 14, and I had no idea what to expect from the male gender, thanks to being shut out because of the leukemia. So, because of that, it was easy to shrug him off. But, if he was really only 18, then I couldn't deny the fluttery feeling I got in my stomach when I thought about him.

However, by the end of the day, I was beginning to doubt his existence again. No one knew who he was, and maybe I had just left the hat and scarf somewhere. I felt more and more dejected the more people answered, "Jack Frasier? Never heard of him. He goes to school here?" At my locker, however, another sign was offered to me.

I pulled open the door after mechanically dialing my combo, only to be shocked by the presence of my hat and scarf, both frosted over like they'd been worn in a snowstorm. I picked up my hat tentatively, feeling the burn of the ice. Inside my hat, there was a small piece of paper that read in scrawling handwriting: "Same place, same time? –J" I didn't bother to hide the relief on my face upon reading that note as I suppressed the bewilderment at how he got to my locker completely unnoticed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in anticipation of what could happen; the weekend was looking a lot brighter now that it had a much more interesting twist to it.

By the time the sun set, I was beginning to feel feverish with anticipation. At least, that's what it felt like, at first. Despite my warm temperature, I was at the window before the pattern of frost could even finish forming. That bit escaped me, and it never occurred to me that a pattern of frost always signaled Jack's arrival and that it was weird, so I often found myself ignoring what little suspicion I had. I pulled the window open and looked down to where he was waiting. The wind felt harsher than it had the night before, but I took no note of it.

"What kind of state did you leave that hat and scarf in?" I asked, the tone of accusation returning to my words.

Jack only smiled up at me. "You shouldn't have let me run off with them."

For the first time, I cracked the smallest hint of a smile in reply to him. Instead of climbing over the sill like last time, I grabbed my coat and went downstairs, claiming to be meeting a friend to my mother.

Jack was leaning against the tree with a ball of snow in his hands, and he grinned at me as I approached. I shook my head, immediately catching his drift. "I don't think I can."

Jack's eyes showed a hint of concern. "Why? Is something wrong?"

I shook my head with a smile. "Only a slight fever."

Jack approached me, abandoning the snowball onto the winter floor. "Fever? That's bad, isn't it?"

"Well, it's not good," I replied sarcastically. Jack stopped in front of me, peering at my face with his intense blue orbs. I stared back almost petulantly, wondering why he would force me under his magnetic gaze.

"You look really flushed. Are you sure you're okay to be out here?" He averted his eyes from me to the ground, and added, "Most people can't handle a lot of cold."

I ignored his melancholy tone and pressed on, "No, Jack, I'm fine. It's a _slight_ fever. Besides, I'm not done asking you questions."

He abruptly changed his mood with an upbeat laugh. "Well, I guess that's why I came back."

"You're name is not Jack Frasier." I stated confidently, starting off in a walk in no particular direction. Jack followed absently.

He shook his head. "You got me. It's not."

"So? What is it?"

"Well, it's Jack. But I can't tell you the rest yet. I don't think you'd believe me."

I pursed my lips in aggravation, but didn't ask again. Maybe he had a good reason for keeping it a secret? "Ok, fine. What about your dad?"

"My, my dad?" Jack blinked, and then looked up at the half moon that was hanging in the sky. "Well, he doesn't talk much. You know, the strong and silent type. But when he does say something, you know it's important."

"And he said I was special."

"Yeah, although I can't imagine why."

I gave him a pointed glance but he was grinning, as always. "Ok, sure. Can I meet your dad, then, if he knows so much about me? Do I know him? What's going on here?" The questions poured out of my mouth the more I realized I didn't know anything about what was going on. The frustration wasn't working well with my light head, either. Wait, when did my head start getting fuzzy?

"Hey, are you ok, Vanessa?" Jack shifted his gaze to me again, slipping in front of me and catching my shoulder in his hand. My head dipped as I felt an onslaught of vertigo hit me like a tidal wave, but that wasn't the worst part. I saw black spots in my vision, denoting that I was on the brink of passing out only a few blocks from home with a boy I hardly knew. I was so unsettled by the vertigo that I nearly doubled over and vomited right then. In the back of my mind, there was a seed of fear. The same one that had been there the last time.

I took a sharp intake of cold air in as Jack's icy hand caught my chin, bringing my eyes to his. His face displayed his anxiety almost beautifully, as if he were some sort of mid-15th century painting. As the first wave of vertigo settled on me, I pulled out of his grip, and said, "I have to go."

That was the last thing I did before passing out.

* * *

I woke up in the hospital. I knew I was there before I even opened my eyes: the familiar smells, the sounds of nurses rushing about, the anxiety of death that lingered over everyone, even those not sick at all. My groggy eyes took a moment to adjust to the yellow-white lights that flickered above me. I didn't move, mostly because I knew better. I just waited. Finally, I glanced down at my arms.

There was an IV in one, and a long purple bruise on the other. I lifted that arm and used my other one to slide the sleeve of the hospital gown up, where the bruise continued. I didn't notice the tears that were sliding off my face until one did, landing with a barely audible pop on my chest. I tried to sit up just slightly, and felt an aching pain go down my right side, the side of the bruised arm. My first thought was a feeble, hopeless one. Jack must have hurt me in some way, right? How else could I have developed such nasty bruises? But I knew how. This was what happened the first time. It was practically the same; I'd passed out from an anemic episode, fallen and bruised myself up, and then woke up in the hospital. Only, that time I woke up in the emergency room.

What convinced me that it hadn't been Jack, that it was actually the cancer coming back was this: I woke up in the same room I spent most of my days in the last time.

My mother rushed in all of a sudden, and, judging by the look on her face, I was right. She saw my tears before I could wipe them away and she sat down on the bed, wrapping me up in her arms, just like the first time. It was like some sort of sick movie flashback. My mother tried to tell me it was going to be alright, but I already knew I was in the recurrent stage. The chances were so much slimmer for me now.

After a few more minutes of my mom's useless promises and my brooding silence, she left to let me rest. Not a minute later, the frost appeared on my window. I waited to see if it would open, or if Jack would suddenly learn how to fly or something, seeing as we were on the fourth floor. Nothing like that happened.

I fell asleep watching the ice patterns wind on the window over and over, continuously appearing, melting away, and reappearing. I thought I saw his face through the window, but I was sure I was just imagining it.

**AN: Thanks for reading. Review if you like! **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks for the love, guys!**

I spent the next few days in the hospital, my mother hovering over me worse than ever. She would not leave me alone no matter how much I begged her to go back to work and stop worrying about me. Of course, she wouldn't. What mother in her right mind would?

The pediatrics wing of the hospital was the only thing that kept me going. Now that I was nearing 18, they removed me from my old room in it, much to my dismay. It was where I practically lived when I had gotten the first round of ALL, and I missed it. There was an air of sadness behind the colorful walls, but at least there were colorful walls. And the children were something else. The only thing I had to look at in the new room were four dingy blue walls, a lackluster television, and, of course, my frosted window. (It never truly melted.) That's why I often spent my hours of daylight with the kids in pediatrics.

Anna was my favorite. She was beautiful, the owner of a wide, round set of hazel eyes. Her smile lit up the room when you walked in, and she was getting better, the doctors said. She must have only been eight or nine. I'd never met another girl with cancer look as tranquil without any hair. She was smart, too, smarter than I was at nine, and sometimes, I thought, even now. I often found myself visiting her.

"No, you can't make that move, Nes."

Anna's delicate fingers kindly moved my knight back to where it had stood. I frowned at her. "What do you mean? You said it moves in an L, right?" She smirked at me with that childish mischief and replied,

"Yes, but the L can't be four spaces long!"

"Oh, well, why didn't you say that in the first place?" I grinned at her and made a different move. Her aim was to teach me how to play chess, but I was proving to be a difficult pupil. I already knew how to play chess, of course, though I was never any good. But I liked the way she looked when she was lit with knowledge and pride. It was really something to watch her exclaim to my mom that _she _was teaching _me._

It was one of those rare moments when my mom took a break from being watchdog, instead going to run errands or check in with work. She knew I was happy with Anna, and that's what really mattered to her. We sat in the 'lounge' of the pediatrics floor, playing on a pink and white chessboard.

Anna was figuring her next move when she looked up, her eyes the size of the moon and a smile on her face, towards the elevator. I saw her nod, and I turned to face the elevator, expecting to see her doting father or someone of the like. Instead, it was Jack.

I immediately grew self-conscious. I was wearing pants right now and not a hospital gown, thank God, but I knew I must have looked awful, regardless. My hair was pulled into a tight pony, with knots in the back of it from tossing in my sleep, and the bruises on my arm were the ugliest hue of yellow I'd ever seen. Not to mention my face, which I hadn't even checked before leaving my hospital room. I expected to see any reaction to this on Jack's face, but all he did was grin at me.

I nearly forgot Anna, who sat across from me with a devilish smirk on her lips.

"Jack, what are you doing here?" I asked, swiping a stray hair behind my ear. He knelt down to be level with the children's table and looked at Anna, who looked like she was about to burst with some secret.

"I was swinging by to see Anna." He smiled at her and she almost blushed, looking away shyly. As his eyes moved to me, he added, "And you, of course. You kind of passed out on me. I was pretty much obligated to come see how you were."

It was my turn to blush, and I began, in futility, "I-I'm so sorry about that. I shouldn't have—" but he cut me off with a shake of his head, and interrupted,

"Stop. You don't have to apologize for that." His tone suggested that he was being serious now, and his concerned azure eyes confirmed it. I felt my stomach squeeze suddenly. Almost sensing my discomfort, Jack turned to Anna, bringing the life back.

"How do you like the snow, Anna?" he asked. She beamed.

"It's beautiful, Jack, thank you."

He nodded, and stood. "Well, if you girls are okay, I'll just be going." With that, he turned back towards the elevator.

"Wait!" I said sharply, also standing. Anna looked at me, confused. "Sorry, Anna, I'll be back tomorrow, okay?" I followed Jack into the elevator after Anna's goodbye. The doors closed with a soft ding, and I pushed the button for my floor. Jack didn't push any button, I noted. I looked down, the abashed feeling still there, and noticed Jack was wearing a pair of sneakers. I smiled.

"Cool kicks," I said.

He blinked. "What?"

"You shoes. You're wearing shoes."

"Oh, these." Jack smiled. "They wouldn't let me in with out them."

The elevator opened, revealing the lifeless walls of my floor, and I walked into the hall. I heard Jack follow me, and I let out the slightest sigh of relief; I wasn't ready for him to leave yet. As I started off towards my room, I asked,

"How do you know Anna?"

He smiled. "I know a lot kids in here."

Ah, he was probably referring to his time as a sick kid or something.

"I had to come ask her about something," he continued.

"You mean, the snow?" I asked, the doubt in my voice evident. Why would he make the trip for that?

He gave me a pointed look, and replied, "It was important to her. Besides, I also wanted to see you."

My stomach did a somersault and I swallowed. I asked him why as we arrived at my room and I opened the door to enter.

"I already told you. I needed to make sure you were okay. So, are you okay?" I turned to see him watching me carefully, with that intoxicating intensity in his eyes again. I felt my mouth go dry as I realized that I couldn't lie to him; that would have been cruel. I imagined it playing out, lying to him and his blind hope that I would get better growing as we continued to talk. What if he grew to care about me, and I died? I couldn't have that. That's when I realized that I couldn't become friends with this guy, or anyone else, for that matter. It was already enough that my mom would be left alone in that house, my father having left it years ago. I bit my lip before answering.

"No. The cancer I had is back. I… I'm in the recurrent stage." I watched Jack's eyes widen, and then darken drastically, the blue of them almost matching the blue of an ocean. "I start chemo again next week, but I don't think it's going to help. I get weaker every day, and those who relapse rarely make it out alive, and I just don't think I'm going to survive again…" I felt myself rambling, vomiting worries and fears that kept me up at night, and I felt my throat closing up, my voice wavering. Before I could say anything else, Jack interrupted me by pulling me into a hug.

The first thing I felt was cold. I'd never felt that amount of chill in my life, being so close to him, and it completely defied the laws of nature. He should have been warm, in fact, probably warmer than me, someone almost a foot shorter than him. He smelled like snow and mint and ice and everything that I associated with playing in the winter. I almost forgot to wrap my arms around him in return. After a beat of it, I pulled away, too cold to withstand it anymore. I wrapped my arms around myself in turn and shivered, looking up at him, confused. He looked hurt at first, but then understanding passed over his face, and his eyes darkened more, if that was possible. I stammered out an apology, but he waved it off.

"No, I know." He looked down for a split second, and then back at me, an idea apparent on his face. "Will you meet me tonight?" he asked.

I looked away and muttered, "Jack, I don't think we should really talk anymore."

His eyebrows furrowed, and he said, "Why not?"

I stared at him without answering, shifting uncomfortably. Recognizing my body language and tone, he repeated his request softly.

"Please. This will be the last time, I promise."

His eyes were what won me, their darkness only increasing their magnetism on me. I nodded, and his face brightened finally.

"Great. Meet me downstairs in the lobby when the moon is highest in the sky." He went to the door and pulled it open, readying to leave. I followed him with my eyes, nodding again and waving a pitiful wave. I felt exhausted from the meeting, and still cold. But my heart was warm. I realized that, even though his hug had been cold, it had felt safe. And somehow that made me yearn for his embrace again. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, sitting on the hospital bed, in the hospital room, in the oncology wing of the hospital, and reminding myself that my days were numbered, unless some act of God or the moon could change it.

**AN: This one is short, but the next one should be good!**


	4. Chapter 4

I was curled on my bed, facing the television, still dressed but pretending to be drowsy. The moon was in the sky, shimmering down through my window. My mother stood at the foot of my bed, her lips pursed and tense with worry. I was trying to convince her to leave, and it felt like an uphill battle I was destined to lose.

"Mom, stop worrying so much. I'm coming home tomorrow anyway." My words sounded empty to me, completely lacking in any sort of persuasive tone by now. My mom continued to fret about it for a second and then, finally, replied,

"Are you sure you'll be okay?"

My eyes flicked to her and I nodded, replying, "I promise. I'm going to go to bed soon, anyway. Just please go home and sleep in your bed instead of that chair." I motioned over to the cheap armchair she had been using as a bed, her pillow crushed between the arm and the back.

My mom began to gather her things, and I let out a low breath of air in relief. People got so caught up in the fact that kids got cancer, but forgot to mention that parents became extremely protective afterwards. It had taken years for her to trust me alone with myself after the first bout of leukemia, and even if I did survive this one, I seriously doubted she'd ever leave my side again. It was more stressful than it was comforting.

She gave me a soft kiss on my forehead, wished me goodnight and left. As soon as the door closed behind her, I sprung out of the bed and grabbed my red sweater, pulling it over my head. As it slid over my head, I saw the reflection of it in the mirror and groaned. It wasn't the plain red sweater I thought it was; no, Mom brought the red sweater with white snowflakes across the chest in a single line. Maybe she thought it would be funny, but it turned out that it was not at all funny, considering Christmas wasn't for another month and a half. _Oh well,_ I thought, _never too early for Christmas cheer._

Deciding that it didn't matter that I was wearing a dorky sweater to meet Jack, I pulled on the other outerwear my mom left for me: white gloves, scarf, and a hat. I'd found time to work in a shower, so my hair was flowing freely down my shoulder, slightly damp in some places, but otherwise looking alright. I sighed, wondering what I was being so persnickety for. A flurry of nerves settled over me, as well; was I never going to get a break from those? Without another moment's hesitation, I left the room, avoiding the nurses that walked past. None of them paid me any mind, fortunately, and I made my way to the elevator without any complications. In the elevator, however, a different sort of anxiety filled my mind. I didn't want this meeting to be the last one, but I knew, deep down, that it needed to be. Jack's magnetism was one thing, but the slight crush I was developing was another thing altogether, and I couldn't let it grow any larger. If I closed my eyes, I could see a future where I lived through this, the cancer never coming back, and Jack and I becoming friends, or even more. But when I opened them, I saw the hospital lobby open up through the cold elevator doors, and the tired nurses walking past, the sad people watching with dull eyes. I saw the reality of my situation, despite what my mother fervently believed, or what my doctor could only hope was treatable.

I shuffled through the doors and into the lobby, keeping my eyes down. A nearby clock read 10:14 P.M. Okay, maybe the moon wasn't exactly at its highest point. I swallowed, feeling stupid for coming down so early, but then a flash of something bright caught my eye, and I looked up to see a string of frost dancing on the nearby window. A smile played on my lips, and I distantly wondered how that always happened when Jack was around. I left the hospital, and there he was, in his normal, shoeless get up. He immediately gave a laugh.

"Merry Christmas, Vanessa."

I looked down at my sweater and shrugged. "Merry Christmas, I guess. My mom picked it out."

He shook his head with a smirk and then started off toward the edge of the parking lot. I followed, keeping close. The cars from the road made an insistent slushing sound from the snow, but otherwise it was silent. It wasn't for a few blocks that I suddenly remembered I had no idea where he was taking me.

"Jack, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

I gave him a sideways glance, falling into a rhythmic step beside him. Again, there was silence around us, and the only sounds we could hear were the distant cars and our feet pounding on the pavement, perfectly in time. I became aware that we were leaving the bustle of the "town" if you could call it that. Houses sprung up around us, along with trees and wooded parks. I kept silent because the mood felt too heavy to talk, the farther we got from town. I pondered how comfortable I felt here, on the outskirts of town with a boy I hardly knew, with cancerous cells inside me destroying other cells. The thought pulled at my heart so hard, I almost laughed at how comical it all was.

Lost in my thoughts, my trajectory path momentarily crossed Jack's, and our arms bumped, sending a shock through me. I muttered an apology, but a few seconds later, Jack stopped, suddenly turning towards me.

"Can I borrow your right glove?" He asked.

I was confused, but I pulled my hand out of it and offered it to him. He looked at it for a second, and then worked it onto his own fingers. It didn't fit very well at all, seeing as his fingers were considerably longer than mine, his palm also a bit wider. I laughed at the image of his hand crushed in my glove, but my laughter died away as he took my left hand into his newly gloved hand, lacing my fingers in his. I felt my heart stutter and my stomach drop, but I didn't say anything, not trusting my voice. He looked down at me with a question in his eyes, which were so exceedingly dark that they looked murky, but still fiercely intense. Finally, he said,

"Can you feel my hand? Is it cold?" His voice was low, almost a whisper. I blinked and looked at our hands, concentrating on the feel of his. My stomach tightened and I shook my head. I couldn't feel cold or warmth, just the solidity of his hand there, as if it was the realest thing I'd ever felt. Jack smiled, and then his face brightened, his eyes returning to the piercing blue I knew them as. "Good, because you're going to need my help making it down."

The spell broken, I wondered aloud, "Down? What does—"

Jack pulled me off the paved sidewalk and into the nearby trees, causing a short yelp to erupt from my mouth. He was moving quickly but not too fast as we made our way down the slope of the side of the road. The trees got thicker, the brush around our feet becoming a sort of minefield. Jack was quick and silent, but I just bumbled around behind him, struggling not to fall on my face. The only reason I didn't was Jack's hand, firmly grasping my own. Whenever I lost my balance, Jack stopped to pull me back into equilibrium with a smile.

My breath was shortened to puffs of air and sharp intakes by the time the forest cleared away. Jack stopped, and I nearly crashed into him; when I didn't, I took deep, panting breaths while I took in the surroundings.

The forest fell away on either side of us, opening up the sky. This far from the town, the sky was clear with twinkling stars, flashing above our heads in huge numbers. Sprawled out before us was a large pond; the water was still and reflective. The full moon hung in the sky, its mirrored reflection shining from below. The scene was idyllic and serene, and I felt like I was dreaming.

As my breathing returned to normal, I looked at Jack, surprised to see that he wasn't taking in the scene with me: he was watching me, his eyes intensifying again. I felt my heartbeat somewhere inside my chest stutter again, and I swallowed. What was I doing? This was precisely what I wanted to avoid with Jack. Well, at least, it's what I tried to think I wanted to avoid. Suddenly aware of the hanging silence and the closeness between Jack and I, I pulled away, slipping my hand out of his and walking forward. "What is this place?"

Jack followed slowly, answering, "It's… just a place I like. Reminds me of somewhere." I turned over my shoulder at the nostalgia in his voice. He was looking away, towards the water. I followed his gaze and caught the gleam of metal; there were two pairs of ice skates sitting beside the water. I started, and then went to them, picking up the smaller pair.

"Oh, I thought we could ice skate." He sounded sheepish, and I thought it was because the water wasn't even close to being frozen over. I shrugged, "Well… it's ok. Maybe we could skinny dip, instead." The joke felt flat, but he still chuckled.

"Yeah, actually... I wanted to bring you here to tell you who I am." He sounded nervous, and I turned towards him, feeling apprehensive but excited, as well.

"Ok. Who are you, Jack?"

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"You might not believe me at first but trust me. My name is Jack Frost."

I waited for more, and when he said nothing, I blinked. "Ok. Hi."

"No, you don't understand. I'm not a guy named Jack Frost. I'm _the_ Jack Frost. You know, the one in the myth? In the song? 'Jack Frost nipping at your nose'? There was a movie about someone that turned into a snowman after he died. Jack Frost." His desperation was evident in his tone, and I felt my stomach churning nervously. Was this guy crazy? How could he believe he was a mythical spirit?

I swallowed, and said, "You might be going crazy, Jack."

Suddenly, he came closer and reached for my gloveless hand with his own. "Can't you feel it, Vanessa? I'm ice cold. I…" he trailed off as he looked at his hand. I noticed it, too; it was fading. I furrowed my brow.

"Jack, what's going on?" My voice sounded small and weak, and fear gripped my heart.

He pulled away, looking at his hands, and then to me. "You have to believe me, Vanessa." He watched my face for a beat, then shook his head, turning to the pond.

The next thing I saw was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. Jack, his body fading in and out, took a big breath and then blew it across the pond. It came out in an icy rush, frosting over the pond, and then freezing it. I stood watching, my mouth agape and my head slightly shaking no. When he was finished, he ran out onto the ice, barefoot as always, and then turned to me.

"You see? I just froze this entire pond." He jumped up and down to prove his point. "Please, Vanessa. If you don't believe in me, I won't be able to help you."

Something about his pleading tone made me stop the crazed feeling I was getting and take a deep breath. It wasn't so bad. The boy I had a pseudo crush on had just blown a pond frozen, and was claiming he was Jack Frost. Well, if you looked at the first part, he could very well be Jack Frost.

Jack's form solidified and he breathed a sigh of relief. "You believe me, don't you?" His eyes were bright, hopeful. My mouth was dry, but I nodded. He came forward, stepping on the snow towards me. I took a step back, almost involuntarily, and I felt awful watching Jack's face fall as he realized I was now scared of him.

"Vanessa, I'm not going to hurt you." His voice was soft and he took another cautionary step forward, his hands outstretched in a disarming way. I didn't move back, and soon he was directly in front of me. I watched him warily and when I realized I was staring, I looked down.

"I'm sorry… that's just a lot to take in. But… I guess it does explain the coldness and the…the frost!" I looked up suddenly, realizing that the frost was him; it had always been him. "You… you make the frost on my window. You were there, in the hospital all that time." Jack nodded, smiling. I felt the nervous energy inside me bubble up as I locked eyes with him. He'd been there that whole time? His eyes were doing that dark, cloudy thing again, and it was in turn clouding my mind.

"You used to believe in me, you know." His voice sounded too loud in the moment, but, in reality, it was so quiet I had to lean in closer to hear him.

"I did?"

"Yeah. Most little kids do believe, nowadays. But they all forget when they get older. It took me four years to make you believe again."

I thought back to the first time we'd met, but I remembered seeing him before. I believed in Jack Frost before the cancer; I remembered that now. With a laugh, I looked up at him.

"I remember."

Jack smiled, and I realized how close he was. He was close enough that he could kiss me if he wanted, and I realized then that I wanted him to. His face was so close to mine that it caused my heart to thud loudly in my chest. So loudly, in fact, that I swore that he could hear it. But he didn't say anything about the racket my heart was making, nor did he move closer. He just looked at me with his magnetic, intense eyes, and then suddenly turned and looked at the moon.

"I know, I know," He said under his breath. Again, the spell he placed on me was broken, and I watched him as he grabbed the skates, handing the smaller pair to me.

"Here, put these on. We have to be in the center of the pond for the best view of him."

I obeyed silently, wondering who in the world we were going to be viewing from the middle of a frozen pond.

With the skates on, we skated to the center of the pond, our hands linked again. It had happened so naturally that I hadn't even realized we were holding hands until we had stopped moving.

Jack looked at me, and said, "You should probably meet my 'dad.'"

I smiled, and said, "You don't have a dad, do you?"

Jack laughed, and turned his face upwards, the moonlight washing over it. I did the same.

**AN: Bit of a cliffhanger. See you next time! **


	5. Update

**Hey, guys! Just posting this update to inform all my story followers that I WILL be updating this story soon. Sorry for the incredible delay, but with the semester ending and the holidays, I kind of got swamped. Expect an update before the week is out.**

**Thanks so much for all the love!**


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